


The Forest at Midnight

by EvanescentDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit of a oneshot, Capture, Goddess, Mention of torture, Other, The Darkness - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanescentDreams/pseuds/EvanescentDreams
Summary: Night had never been a problem, nor a disadvantage. Never a fear, or something to place among any list of worries she may have had. Especially the Darkness herself.Not until now, that is.





	The Forest at Midnight

The wind pulled at her as she ran, making its best effort to slow her down. Tree branches reached out to scratch at her face and exposed skin, while stones and sticks stabbed at her bare feet. Amara held a hand at her side, attempting to stop the flow of blood that seeped through her fingers. Her breathing was shallow against the cold night’s air, and rain made a valiant effort in obscuring her vision. Small bullets of water pelted her skin and drenched her clothing that was no more than mere ribbons. Her pants were ripped in various places and her shirt was torn to no repair. With each movement, her muscles groaned in protest and gave painful pleas for her to stop, to rest. But she had to keep going. 

She paused for a moment, leaning against a tree to keep herself upright. The bark scraped at her back and dirt attached itself to her clothes. Bending over, she coughed in an attempt to swallow down as much precious air as was possible. She strained to listen, beyond the blood rushing in her ears and her heart’s persistent pounding in her chest. The rustling of leaves and snapping of sticks could be heard, much too close to her. Low, male voices were soon to follow.

“No,” she exhaled, straightening up and setting off again. Her pace increased, yet was limited, for she attempted to make as little sound as possible. The voices grew closer, and the pace of the footsteps behind her became faster. She focused hard, attempting to set some space between her and the followers. In a small cloud of essence, she disappeared from her place and materialized a few kilometers ahead of the men, before a stream. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. Her lungs forced her to cough out her own essence and blood, rejecting the substance as though it were never hers to hold. 

Small ripples formed in the water as rain pressed into the stream. She leaned forward, taking some of the water in a cupped hand, and allowing it to run over the deep gash on her side. Amara fell onto her back and released a pained hiss as air was forced from her lungs, past her gritted teeth. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree. Hesitantly, her hand lowered to the wound. She slowly moved the fabric of her shirt, whimpering quietly as the linens were pulled away from the frayed skin. 

From the gash dripped a mixture of blood and essence that swirled together, accenting each other like oil on water. In one swift motion, she tore the fabric of her shirt, ripping a strip from the base. Splaying the newly created bandage strategically across her side, she wrapped it around her waist and tightly tied it off. Despite her shallow breathing, sleep-deprived mind, and weakened state, she knew she had to keep going and time was running out. She pushed herself to her feet, leaning against the tree as she waited for the feeling of dizziness to pass. When stability had been claimed, she began walking in the direction the stream pointed her. 

Out of nowhere, something violently took hold of her. A hand cupped around her neck and slammed her against a tree with immense power. Air was forced out of her lungs, preventing her cry of pain from growing louder than a small whimper. The tree was jagged, and the deformities of the trunk pressed hard into her back, burrowing deep into her skin. A tall, strong man held her there, the grey of his eyes appearing black in the darkness. Amara struggled helplessly, pulling at the hand around her neck to loosen his grip. 

“It is unwise for you to fight back,” he hissed in her ear, slowly trailing a hand down her injured side. “No! Stop!” She whimpered, making her best attempts to shove him away to no avail. He merely chuckled. “Maybe if you kept quiet, we wouldn’t catch you so easily.” His hand shifted from her throat to her mouth, and his other hand found the makeshift bandage wrapped around her waist. He swiftly pulled it off, trailing his fingers across her stomach towards the open wound. Her protests were muffled, and her chest rose and fell rapidly with her panic. 

His fingertips ripped at the torn skin, tearing past the frayed muscle tissue and into her side. Her muffled scream broke the quiet of the forest, forcing the world around them to still. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the shriek threw her hoarse. The white pain flooded her body until finally, it stopped. Her quickened heart rate pulsed in her head and the white wisps of her breath caught in the air. The wound throbbed, and her muscles were much too tight for allowing her much movement. He released her, and she slid down the jagged trunk of the tree, unable to fight the weakness that ruled her body. With a hand coated in her blood and essence, his smirk refused to falter. Beyond her ragged breathing that continuously caught in her throat, she heard footsteps approach them, and the same low voices from before. Flashlights shimmered through the trees, cutting through the darkness in long ultraviolet rays. 

“Over here,” the man called to them, and their path changed to a more pointed course. Soon, several lights were directed at her, blocking her vision. “How is she?” A new voice spoke, gruff, yet not quite as low as the first man. “She’s weak, and the ender blade did much more damage than was expected. I say she doesn’t have much time left before she loses consciousness… As for how she still had the strength left to fight back? I’ll say adrenaline is the only thing keeping her alive right now. If we get her back to the base in under three hours we might be able to spare her in order to conduct more tests.” The first man stated. 

A new form stepped towards her, blocking the light enough for her to see a rough outline of them. Her vision began to fade, and a small haze ring formed around everything she saw. A hand reached towards her, and she flinched away as his fingertips grazed her cheek. Drained of all strength, she was unable to fight as she was brought from the ground, and lifted into the arms of the oldest male. 

“Come now, we’re taking you back. Don’t fight anymore. You’ve already lost,” she heard him say, his voice all too soft. Then, she lost consciousness.


End file.
